The Christmas Ball
by Cats070911
Summary: Winston and Stuart plot to get Tommy and Barbara together at the morgue's Christmas party.


**Author's note:** all usual disclaimers apply.

* * *

Stretched out on the mortuary table, the mummified body of the old man reeked with an overly sweet, sickly pungency that made everyone's eyes water. Detective Sergeant Nkata stood as far away as he dared. Beside him, the young constable who had found the body stood rigidly. Winston turned and smiled. "Not every day you come across something like this."

"No, Sergeant." The woman looked away shyly, and Winston's heart stuttered, as if uncertain whether to stop beating or beat faster. He took a deep breath while it decided.

Finally, he found his voice. "I'd have never believed it. A body in a coffin in the lounge room."

"Very unusual, Sergeant. It's the lavender That's the worst bit."

Winston agreed. The body's cavities had been crammed with dried flowers, and the coffin had been filled with mothballs mixed with more lavender. "Someone couldn't let go."

"Yes, his poor wife. If she hadn't died... She must have lived with him for years like that. It's very sad. I hope one day someone loves me that much."

"You want to be kept in the dining room, Constable?"

The young policewoman giggled nervously. "No! I just want to be missed."

Winston knew he was staring. Tall and powerfully built, she was not beautiful in any traditional sense, but Winston had been drawn to her the moment he saw her. He could tell that she kept herself fit. Her skin was like flawless onyx that seemed to shine in the harsh lights of the morgue. He missed her already and had to find a way to see more of her.

"Constable Ebitu, this might sound strange, but..."

He was interrupted by the pathologist, Stuart Lafferty. "So, Winston, the report says the body was packed in mothballs."

"Yes, and lavender." Winston cursed Stuart's timing and wished there was a spare table to lay him out on. Now he had to focus on the autopsy. He hoped that would not affect his chances with the young constable.

* * *

"Stuart Lafferty," the pathologist introduced himself when Winston's manners failed him.

The constable smiled and extended her hand. "Constable Ebitu. Sandra Ebitu."

"Pleased to meet you, Sandra. So you found the, er, mummy?"

"Yes, Doctor Lafferty. His wife had him in a coffin in their lounge room. He was packed in lavender and mothballs."

Stuart wriggled his nose. "I can tell that. Well, let's get started."

The three crowded around the body as Stuart made his first incision. Winston was behaving oddly. He kept glancing at Sandra when she was not looking. She was furtively checking out Winston too. Lafferty was no fool. He had spent years with Detective Chief Inspector Tommy Lynley and his beleaguered partner, the recently promoted DI Barbara Havers, so he knew when people were attracted to each other but too scared to act. He glanced up from the body. "So Winston, have you invited the constable here to our little Christmas bash?"

"No," Winston replied cautiously. He looked justifiably confused. Stuart had just made the party up.

Stuart turned to the young lady. "The morgue's having a Christmas ball in a couple of weeks. Starting a new tradition. Anyone involved with us professionally gets an invitation."

The constable smiled awkwardly. "I don't know anyone here."

Stuart was not going to be deterred. "Nonsense! You know us. Winston would be happy to escort you. Wouldn't you Winston?"

"Er, yes. If you'd like."

Stuart grinned at Winston who had begun to sweat across his brow. "It's fancy dress - famous couples in history." He was making this up on the fly.

"Like Romeo and Juliet?" Sandra asked enthusiastically.

"Yes, exactly." He turned to Winston. "Where for art thou, Romeo?"

Winston moved around the table and pretended to focus on the incision Stuart was making. Stuart grinned until Winston gave him a sharp kick in the shin. "Maybe Romeo and Juliet are already taken?"

"You can never have too many in my opinion," Stuart countered. "Which reminds me, how are we going to get Lynley and Barbara to come as a couple? He'll be too thick to ask her to go with him."

Winston frowned. "She'll never go if she thinks it's couples. Maybe just make it famous people."

Stuart gave a dismissive flick of his scalpel, forcing Winston to move back. "Spoils the fun. No, we have to trick them into coming as a couple."

"Well, couples don't have to be romantic," Winston reasoned, "we could get them to come as Holmes and Watson, or Batman and Robin."

"Winston, have you seen them lately? They're like the hounds of hell on heat. They just need a helping hand to see that all that tension can be easily solved. The lungs and heart look normal, although the desiccation makes it hard to tell."

"Put the names of couples in a hat and get them to pull them out," Sandra suggested.

Stuart could see a flaw in that logic. "How do you make sure they get matched up?"

"When you give her the hat, have it full of one name and do the same for him. They can't be standing together of course."

Winston whistled his approval. "Suitably devious, Constable. I can see why you're with the police."

"Liver looks a bit worse for wear, but I don't think it would have killed him. What about Cleopatra and Marc Antony?" Stuart said, not looking up from the body.

Winston laughed. "I wouldn't trust Barbara with an asp."

"This DI must be ferocious," Sandra said with a hint of alarm.

"No, she's all bark," Stuart said, "a Rottweiler bark, but she rarely bites."

"Bonnie and Clyde?" Winston asked.

"That has possibilities," Stuart agreed.

"If you can't trust her with a snake, can you trust her with a machine gun?"

Lafferty liked Sandra. She was funny and smart. If Winston could just roll his tongue back into his head, she might like him too. He needed to get both couples together. Stuart's grandmother had been a matchmaker in Ireland. He was beginning to think it was in his genes.

Sandra smiled devilishly. "What about Rhett Butler and Scarlett O'Hara?"

Winston's mouth twisted into an expression of deep thought. Stuart did not think the question was that hard. After a minute Winston finally spoke. "A dress like that'd suit her eyes."

Sandra looked at Winston and frowned. "Her eyes?"

"She has the most divine green eyes."

"You and she have...?"

"No!" Stuart came to Winston's rescue. "She only has eyes for Lynley, and he for her. They just don't seem to notice or act on it. He would make a striking Rhett."

"He would!" Winston agreed.

Stuart saw Sandra looking at each of them. "Lynley is the classic tall, dark and handsome type, although he's aged a bit lately. Ah, that's interesting. Your dead man seems to have died from a blow to the back of his head with a mid-sized cylinder. A baseball bat perhaps."

Sandra shook her head. "Or a rolling pin."

"Yes, much more likely to be in the home of a Southwark pensioner than a baseball bat. Top marks! Hey Winston, maybe you should suggest Sandra for the squad."

* * *

Winston had spent the night Googling famous couples. He had typed out the names of the couples and put them into a box, then created an identical box as Sandra had suggested. Stuart had fine-tuned the party's purpose. People would come if they thought it was for charity. Barbara always responded to anything for children and Tommy would never refuse anything for orphans. Stuart had quickly arranged to support a programme for educating children left orphaned by drug addicted parents.

He waited until she was alone at her desk. "Here, you have to pick your character for the ball."

"Why did they have to make it fancy dress?" Barbara complained as Winston thrust the box under her nose.

"To make it more interesting." Winston had worked out answers for most of her possible objections.

"All right." She thrust her hand into the box. Her face fell when she read it. "No! I can't do that. Put this back and give me another one."

Winston quickly pulled the box away. "No! Don't be a spoiled sport. Stuart has arranged for that costume hire place near the morgue to have all the costumes for people who need them. Half the hire cost goes to the charity."

Barbara muttered under her breath. Winston did not want to know what was said. The only part he caught was, "Stuart's going to pay for this."

"It'll be fun. Okay, I have to go and finish this, and remember, you can't tell anyone who you picked."

He smiled to himself as he fed the remaining Scarlett slips into the shredder and added the Rhett slips to his box. He knocked on the door of the DCI's office.

"Come in."

"Sir, time to pick your character for the Morgue's Christmas Ball."

Tommy barely looked as he shoved his hand in the box. He read his character, raised his eyebrows and smiled. "Rhett Butler. I think I have an outfit that will suit. Good luck with the others."

Winston laughed. This had been much easier than he had hoped. "Thanks, Sir."

"Oh Winston," Tommy said with calculated casualness, "do you know who's going as Scarlett?"

"No, Sir. It's a surprise for everyone."

"Hmm, pity. Thank you, Winston."

* * *

Barbara was curious. Tommy had not shaved properly for almost a week. He had trimmed his neck and cheeks but had left the start of an elegant square beard. Each day she watched it grow thicker, and her fingers itched to run through it. Now as they sat in their favourite pub, she fantasised about him rubbing his stubbly chin along her shoulder and neck.

"I said 'would you like a drink'?"

"Oh, sorry, Sir. I was miles away. Yeah, that'd be nice. A pint of the usual."

When he returned, she had to ask. "Is the beard for Stuart's ball?"

Tommy gave her a deliciously wicked grin that made her knees tremble. "It might be, or I might just be going for a more hip look."

Barbara nearly choked on her beer. "You? Hip?"

"Why not?"

Barbara thought his beard accentuated his wounded look. It was incredibly sexy. She had to stop thinking of him like that. Every year as Christmas approached she found it harder to remember that he was her boss and her friend and not someone she should pine after. "Because you already have a look."

"So what's my look?"

"Sort of James Bond crossed with a country squire."

Tommy tilted his head as if in thought. "I think I'll take that. Do you want a lift to the ball on Saturday?"

If she did, people might mistakenly think they had gone together. As much as she might like to fan that flame, she was aware her dress was impractical. "No, I need to dress at the costume place. The hall is only a short walk."

"I could meet you there."

"Are you hiring your costume too?" That would at least be a legitimate reason to meet, and walk to the ball together.

"No, not exactly, but if you need an escort in your costume."

Tempted as she was, that would look like she was his date. "It's not that outrageous; I can manage."

"Never mind, it was just a thought."

* * *

Tommy shaved his beard then carefully began to shape his moustache into a thick pencil line. He neatened the edges by pulling out individual hairs with tweezers. It brought tears to his eyes, and he marvelled that women did this willingly in the name of perceived beauty.

Under the shower, he turned the pressure as high as it would go and let the warm water cascade over his head. He lifted his face and found the gap in the cone of water just large enough for his nose. As the thin jets pummeled his face, his thoughts were on his sergeant. Knowing her, she had probably drawn out something ridiculous, like Yogi Bear. "I could be your little Boo-Boo."

He took a long breath then began to shower properly. Barbara was never going to push him up against his office door and kiss him passionately. It was up to him to make the first move, and tonight, irrespective of how outlandish her costume was, he was determined to let her know how he felt about her. Hopefully, it would end with a hot kiss and not a slap to his face. At least as Rhett, he was dressed for either.

A little over two hours later he was searching amongst the crowd for Barbara. The Christmas atmosphere was evident. The usually reserved morgue attendants were singing loud and tuneful carols in one corner while a group from another crime squad had started a conga line behind Santa and Rudolph. The hall's splashes of red, white and green made him relax. Tonight was going to be a good one. He just had to convince Barbara that he was more of a Bond than a farmer. He searched for a convenient sprig of mistletoe, then broadly smiled when he noticed that all the decorations around the lights over the dance floor were adorned with it. He imagined Stuart planned for a lot of very slow songs.

Most of the costumes were spectacular. Even Assistant Commissioner Hillier had entered the spirit of the night. He and his wife made excellent Bananas in Pyjamas*. As they stood in their blue and white striped suits sipping champagne while they chatted to him, Tommy noticed Hillier was B2. It did not surprise him that his wife was the head banana in their household.

"Good evening, Sir."

Tommy turned to see Winston standing bare-chested in front of him wearing nothing but a small leopard-skin loincloth. "Winston!"

"Tarzan tonight, Sir. This is Jane, well actually Constable Sandra Ebitu. Sandy, this is DCI Tommy Lynley, my boss."

"A pleasure ma'am." With a flourish befitting a Southern gentleman, Tommy bowed then took her hand and kissed it gently.

"Winnie's told me so much about you." Sandra tugged at the hem of her skimpy, figure-hugging dress. It was hard not to notice that she had an athletic but curvaceous body. Tommy was amused that the material was the same as Winston's loincloth. So, his sergeant finally had a partner. The tension between them was palpable and he could tell their relationship was still new. Tommy smiled thinking of them swinging on vines in Winston's bedroom. It was an image best banished even though he hoped tonight they found happiness.

"Don't believe everything he tells you. Have either of you seen Barbara?"

"Not yet, but Stuart might have. He's over there. Have a great night, Sir," Winston replied.

Tommy started to laugh when he saw Stuart. He was standing near the rear wall with his costume head tucked under his arm. Tommy could not resist. "Meep, meep."

"Very droll." Wylie Coyote turned to face him. "Good lord, is that real?"

Tommy flicked his forefinger along the line of his lip. "Yes. Rhett has to have a moustache. Nice head. Where's the Road Runner?"

"Over fetching a drink. You can't drink with this on, but I had fun chasing her around our bedroom. The nose is very handy for..."

Tommy raised his hand. "I don't need to know!"

Stuart laughed a little too hard, confirming Tommy's suspicion that the pathologist was well on the way to inebriation. "Impressive eh? We actually raised a lot of money. And some of the costumes are marvellous."

Tommy nodded. "I don't understand why everyone is paired up. My slip only had one name."

A strange quiet began at the door then spread across the room. All Tommy could see was the swish of ruby through the splayed legs of Fred Flintstone. Fred, usually known as Constable Brown, put his arm around Wilma and moved to the left. Tommy inhaled sharply. His sometimes dowdy sergeant had transformed into Scarlett.

Her dress was cut to follow her figure, nipping in at the waist before slinking over her hips and back into her thighs before onto the floor where it puddled in a circle. Tommy was not interested in the skirt or the shiny gems that were sown into it. His eyes were locked on the low cut bodice that gently pushed up her breasts. Her skin was flawless, and the garnets that trimmed the neckline made her skin shine. The soft ruby feathers that ran from the bodice across her shoulders fluttered as much as his heart. Slowly he let his eyes wander up to her face. It was framed by the thin ruby netting of her long wrap that had somehow snagged on her hair. Barbara's hair was too short and light to lift up, so she had styled into Southern ringlets that fell across her face. Barbara was wearing Scarlett's famous red dress, and she looked beautiful.

* * *

Barbara felt self-conscious. The man in the costume shop had convinced her that this was the dress that suited her, but she felt too exposed. Now everyone was staring. She started to turn away.

"Barbara!"

She turned back to the voice. Tommy was standing across the dance floor. He looked handsome in long black tails with an ivory waistcoat over a white crimped shirt with a high wing collar, set off by an ivory bow-tie. His hair was slicked back with a neat part on the side. In his hand, he held a pair of ivory gloves and a tall, shiny silk top hat. At first, his smile hid his moustache, but as they stared at each other, his face became serious.

"Rhett!"

"Scarlett!"

* * *

Winston watched them as Tommy walked slowly towards her. He dropped his gloves, then three paces later, his hat. She lifted her gloved hand expecting him to take it. Instead, he swept her into his arms and bent her backwards across his thigh. Without speaking, he kissed her. It was not demure and for the audience. It was genuine and passionate. Wolf-whistles and heckles echoed around the room but Scarlett and Rhett seemed oblivious.

When they broke for air, Barbara whispered something. Tommy smiled. "Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn!" Then he kissed her again. This time her hands came up and curled into his hair. Winston felt Sandra take his hand and sigh. Across the room, Wylie Coyote dimmed the lights. Winston took one last look at Barbara and Tommy. They were totally lost in each other.

"Great idea, Sandra."

"I have another one." She pulled him towards her, and as they kissed Winston lost track of the world around him.

* * *

*Bananas in Pyjamas is an Australia childrens' programme that was syndicated around the global and features 2 yellow bananas, B1 and B2, dressed in blue and white pyjamas.


End file.
